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“It is a human’s greatest denial, that their beginning cannot be the same as their ending.” – Anonymous An idiot Democrat will believe in creating a clean slate out of history. Their lack of comprehension is in that they fail to notice that history repeats itself, so cleanly. It moves through us, in that clarity.…
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“We kiss our beloved to greet them. We kiss them upon a farewell. One last kiss, or one last dance, and it is all very personal. The world cannot be looked at, as though of one story. We may have the same ink for the page, though to erase the necessary division that allows us…
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You are the lighthouse Amid my storm, The guide, While my sails are worn. I am cracked by my hull, As you never let me sink Into my own debris, In my own tears, By my own fears. You are merciful, As I’ve been fanciful In seeing my pain wither away, In desiring my arms…
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I fall with you Down to the embers With the morning dew. I stay with you In hearts so filled with contrast To light, To bright tears On the waking mind In the dismal shine. We bleed, so much alike. Like new droplets Upon the petals During a storm That leaves its mark, upon the…
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Twilight is our embrace, Shedding tears Without waste. My face greets the morning sun Upon hollow earth, Dreaming For new stars that crater the ground, Making dust, Forging rust, Bleeding violet from roses That hold only red. I hold the daffodil close, Like I hold the primrose in my mouth, As I fold the orchids…
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She is that, within herself and behind her tears. She holds the moon for her solace, with the sun for her shame. A life so wrenched, with idle strands before her forehead. She beads the tension to the surface of porcelain skin. A woman, who so wants to be held, without slipping free. A little…
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Her mind Resides In the green, upon my eyes. Her fields Flower With the dew, upon each leaf Crossing plains, Hovering upon mountain slopes, To drag back down The wilderness in the empty sounds. Her blood Is my course, My journey through my own veins. For my sails are tattered, Washed By the storm’s endurance.…
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I curl around A form, that steps around The rocks, that shelter Her beginning to be hidden. Love leaves soft trails On the path so unspoken Beneath her sighing lips. I want to say That the world was without you, Though, you came Without pain. Could you kiss? Could you melt Like candles that have…
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Without me, in arms, I bleed only reflection. The memory of a forsaken vow To the embodiment of now. The world has deceit Rising in reverse Angles, made to mangle Our eyes, to our very feet. Love is a triangle, An emotion without circles. Blood rises, to then fall Down to the distant call. I…
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Since May 6th, 2019, I have begun writing an almost endless stream of poetry on this blog. I have now compiled 924 poems, not including the 164 drafts to poetry I didn’t finish. Minus the 54 poems that I am having published through a local publishing house, I have 870 poems that will still need…
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Can you choose Which part of your heart To lose Upon the path, the lonely road That takes a dive Into the plummet of Hell? I seem to have forsaken myself, For the gift to another. Her eyes, bead back disgrace, In tears that drop from weather’s face. Storms siphon humanity From the melting pot,…
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“The cure comes to us as what was lost, to then be found, even if needing to be dug up from a grave. Love is never a stolen moment. It is, though, something that was never found, never owned, never discovered upon the road where it was walking. For we are not robbers of that…
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